"Honey, you can't eat chicken with a fork and a knife! … You've got to eat it with your hands!"  Now I don't know about you, but I don't think you can get wisdom like that from just any ol' place.  Luckily … and for more reasons than you can even imagine … there's Roscoe's House of Chicken N' Waffles.  This Southern California institution has been dishing out GRUB since the 70's, artfully weaving together two equally amazing, and smilingly different, soul-riffic delicacies … oh yes, we're talking about A) the chicken and B) the waffle.  Roscoe's doesn't just have chicken and waffles … it's the house of chicken n' waffles.  I don't know about you … but screw how many bedrooms it's got, forget about the school district, or the number of square feet … when you're out home buying, keep your eye out for the one made out of chicken and waffles.  Skimming over the menu, the only real choice is how much and what version of chicken you want to go with … breast, thigh, and legs … oh my.  Ever since I was a little GRUB, I've only really been able to go with one … the #13 Carol C. Special … it's just something about the "1 succulent breast, 1 delicious waffle" description that's kind of impossible to pass up.  As the tray of tiny syrups gets to the table, my heartbeat ratchets up to another level as the anticipation becomes overwhelming.  Then the plates arrive, loaded with beautifully fried chicken and golden, fluffy waffles … at this point I start to consider whether I need to get a pacemaker.  The fried chicken is unlike any you've ever had before … crispy, juicy, special-seasoned-flavor-kicking-ninja-powered chicken.  I don't exactly know the state laws on it, but I really hope it's not illegal to make love to a chicken.  Okay, I didn't exactly mean it like that … but at Roscoe's …I kind of do.  But just when you can't get over the fried morsels of juiciness, the waffle comes at you with full force.  L'eggo my Eggo? Not even … I'll hunt down your entire family if you touch my Roscoe's waffle.  It's got a bit of sweetness, a kick of, dare I say … cinnamon … and an overall rich, buttery savory flavor.  It comes loaded up with a giant mellon-baller hunk of whipped butter and tiny jars of pure-heaven syrup. Between the chicken and the waffle .. It's kind of impossible to decide which one's your favorite … so don't.  Layer them up together, smother the syrup on both, and give each a healthy dose of Louisiana Red Rooster hot sauce.  Or make like our buddy Brian and make you're own fried chicken and waffle taco … screw Kogi, we're taking Mexican fusion to a whole other level.   It was the kind of meal where we couldn't talk about anything but the food the entire time … almost to the point of giggling at how happy we were to be enjoying the feast before us.  And that's always a good sign of some Good Grub.  So get in touch with your southern-self, and hit up Roscoe's … trust you're spiritual GRUB-guide … you'll be glad that you did.  Just be warned … your other food won't taste the same ever again.